


Oregon Can Wait

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s07e22 Requiem (X-Files), Episode: s08e13 Per Manum, F/M, angsty fluff, tw: miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 12:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Yet another version of how Requiem could have happened.





	Oregon Can Wait

Once, not long ago, Scully was pregnant. For a total of 26 hours. Three pregnancy tests confirmed the life growing inside of her and Mulder's smile cemented it. Back then, over a year ago, she told him right away. He was there for each of the home pregnancy tests. Waited with her while holding her hand. He shuffled his feet, bit his tongue and lips, but he waited. When they started the IVF, an awkward endeavor amidst work, ex-partners and lovers, they tried to keep their hopes and dreams in check. Neither of them talked about it. News were shared with as little emotion as possible; Mulder, how was your appointment? Fine, fine. It went well. Their conversations as clinical as the fact that they were trying to conceive a baby in a Petri dish. 

They spent the morning on the couch, sitting closer together than they'd had in the weeks before. Their heads leaning against each other they murmured about what their child would be like, what he or she would look like. Then Mulder being Mulder had an idea: "Come with me, Scully", and when she was hesitant he simply said, "trust me". She trusted him (still trusts him, always) and followed him. 

Babies 'R' Us on a Sunday morning was packed. Mulder held her hand, not letting go once. Scully giggled constantly, feeling lighter, feeling happy. She watched other parents with their babies, imagining what she and Mulder would look like, a year later, with a baby of their own. She should have known then. She should have. But Mulder was ecstatic, like a child himself, and led her through the pink and blue and yellow and green aisles as if he were on a mission. As it turned out, he was. He stopped in front of a rack with onesies in all sizes, all colors. One look at him and Scully knew this wasn't his first time here. Sheepishly he went through them and handed her too tiny garments; one in pink, one in blue. Her eyes filled with tears as her finger traced the small New York Knicks emblem on the front. They had to buy them. Mulder grinned from ear to ear as they paid.   
The onesies found a new home on Scully's dresser in her bedroom. She touched them with caution, as if handling them too roughly could cause damage. Mulder stood behind her, watching silently. 

"Beautiful", he mumbled as the two sat side by side and Scully nodded. It was only when he started nuzzling her neck that she realized what he meant, who he meant. Their first kisses were hesitant, almost awkward. They giggled through them like teenagers until the humor flew away, replaced by something more sincere. 

"We should have done this before," Mulder whispered against the shell of her ear. "But we never follow the path of least resistance, do we?"

They spent the rest of the day huddled together on the couch, kissing and laughing, dreaming of a different life together. In hindsight she should have known that there was no different life for them; choices had been made, taken away from them. But that day, in that moment, with Mulder tracing constellations on her stomach, she refused to not believe. It didn't last. It never could have lasted. 

When she woke hours later, the pain in her abdomen excruciating, she was crying without realizing. Because she knew before she even saw the blood. Another child not meant to be.

In the hospital, a place both knew too well, neither knew what to say. Scully wanted to send Mulder away, remind him that he didn't have to stay. The words already on her tongue she turned to look at him. His eyes, red-rimmed and defeated, stopped her. He took her hand in his, holding on for dear life. 

"I get to go home tomorrow," she said as if to herself. Mulder nodded and kissed her knuckles, one by one. He wasn't going to let go and the moment, the short lack of breath where she wanted him to, had passed. "I need you to…uhm." The words got stuck. New tears sprang to her eyes as she thought about the two tiny garments on her dresser, side by side and now never to be worn.

"Anything, Scully."

"The… the… the ones we bought." She couldn't say the words. She squeezed her eyes shut against the mental picture, against the memory of buying the onesies with Mulder. It seemed a lifetime ago already, not mere hours. Realization hit her; they wouldn't need them. Not now, not ever. 

"The… oh." His voice cracked and he looked away, his fingers playing with the edge of her lily white blanket.

"Could you…" make them go away, is what she wanted to say. Instead the tears flew freely and Mulder was there. He took her into his arms and their tears mingled together. 

"I'll make them disappear," he swore to her in hushed tones, with kisses against her flushed skin as proof. "I will return them, sell them, I'll-"

"Don't sell them," Scully cried against him, the thought unbearable. They belonged to them, didn't they? All these things they'd never have. Never, never. Those onesies would never be worn. Never. 

"I'll think of something," Mulder promised and she knew they'd never speak of it ever again.

*

Scully is pregnant. Again. She refused to believe it, asked to see her chart. There was no mistaking it. She found out yesterday, shortly before Mulder returned from Oregon, grumpy that the weather had prevented him and Skinner from investigating the disappearances. He'd forgotten all about it when the Gunmen told him about her fainting episode, about her stay in the hospital. She could have told him. She could have said the words right away. And yet, they wouldn't come. Instead she assured him that she was fine. Just stress, she lied. Mulder held her, no questions asked. She just couldn't do it again.

It's been 26 hours since she found out, how ironic. Scully stares at the clock as if she were waiting for the inevitable. Mulder, in the living room, is either talking to the TV or to Skinner again. He wants to go back to Oregon, spurred on by mysteries he can't see, but desperately needs to solve. Her hand lands on her flat stomach. This, she thinks, is the greatest mystery of them all. When it happened the first time, Mulder was there every step. Not many steps, far too little time, but he was there. It was his hand on her stomach, flexing his fingers and trying to make sure to protect the lump of cells in her body. It hadn't worked. Her own hand feels too warm on her skin, almost unwelcome.   
"The weather forecast looks good," Mulder says loudly in the other room; so he is talking to Skinner after all. The thought of him leaving again, without her by his side, makes her feel sick. Can she let him go when she has this secret inside her? Another miracle that he helped create? If she loses it again, again (she takes a long shaky breath, preparing herself), she can tell him after. Once she's made peace with it herself. But there's another if. What if she doesn't lose the baby – this time? Hope flutters inside her. Scully sits on the bed, exhausted by the mere possibility.

"Scully?" Mulder's head appears in the door, his eyes wide. "Is anything the matter? Are you not feeling well?" He rushes over and sits next to her. This is the moment, she thinks. Tell him, just tell him, just-

"I'm fine," she says instead, the reply automatic. Mulder tilts his head, observes her. He doesn't believe her. She doubts he's believed the first ten times she's told him. But he knows her well enough not to push. 

"Are you-," Mulder stops himself, shakes his head slightly; they should be over this, his simple gesture implies. But he remains quiet. He takes her hand in his and looks into her eyes. He wants to ask her what really is wrong with her. Scully licks her lips, considers it. He deserves to know. He deserves to grieve, too, if… if. But the words don't come and Mulder, never patient, sighs and moves on.

"I can't find my gloves. Is there a chance I left them here somewhere?" 

"Let me check." Scully is grateful for the distraction. There's a moment of dizziness as she gets up from the bed and she squeezes her eyes shut against it. With her back to Mulder, he doesn't notice. She rummages through her drawers as Mulder talks to her about Oregon and Billy Miles. 

Half listening, Scully reaches deep into the drawer with the winter clothes. There's a scarf Missy gave her for Christmas and the mittens her mother made for her when she was worried that her daughter would be cold on stakeouts. Her fingers catch on something unfamiliar. It's soft to the touch, so very soft and as she tugs on it, as the small garment comes into view, Scully gasps. Mulder rambles on, completely unaware. But Scully is no longer listening. She takes it out; one of the small Knicks onesies she and Mulder bought a lifetime ago. She stares at it, touches the narrow shoulders, the lengths of the arms and legs. So tiny. So perfect. So. Her vision blurs; once she imagined their child wearing this and then… 

"Did you find them?" Scully turns to Mulder, holding the garment in her hands.

"Scully, I know you said I-"

"You didn't sell them," she marvels, interrupting him. "You didn't throw them away."

"I wanted to, really, but I couldn't. I know I didn't pick a good hiding place, but I thought that…," he trails off, looking down at his hands. "I couldn't let go of it. I thought even if we never had a child, I wanted to remember the one we almost had. We did have it, Scully. Even if it was just for a moment." There are tears in his eyes when he lifts his head and looks at her. 

"I'm glad you didn't sell them or throw them away or whatever I said you should do with them," Scully says, taking a deep breath. She checks the time once more; it's been 27 hours since she found out. There are still so many hours to worry about, days, weeks and months. But she can't keep the secret to herself much longer. A smile tugs at her lips, the belief that this time will be different too strong to ignore. 

"You are?" She nods and walks closer.

"Yes, because if you had, we would have had to buy new ones," she whispers, hoping he can hear her anyway.

"New ones?" Mulder asks, staring at her with a lost look in his eyes. Scully takes his hand into hers and puts it on her stomach. 

"New ones," she repeats, grinning through her tears.

"You mean… you are? Are you? You're… you're-"

"I think the word you're looking for is pregnant, Mulder. That's why I fainted and why they kept me a while longer. I had to be sure. I know I should have told you right-" He doesn't let her finish, hugs her fiercely and kisses her for all she's worth. The onesie is smashed between them as they kiss, giggle and cry.

"How is this- wait, I know how it happened," Mulder says and grins proudly. She would slap him if she wasn't so damn happy herself.

"I wanted you to know before you left for Oregon. There is something – someone – you have to come back for."

"Scully, you are the reason I want to come back every time. I am not going to leave you alone now. Oregon can wait."

"Mulder-"

"No, you and junior, Scully. You and junior are what matters. I should have seen it right away. I told you there's more than this and there is. There's you. There's… our baby. Forget the gloves, I'll call Skinner. I'll brief whoever is willing to go to Oregon. I'm needed here." He kisses her lips softly. Whatever happens now, or tomorrow, he'll be there.


End file.
